Thank you all for sticking around this long. I hope you still like what I do.
--------------------------
"Matteo did what?"
Simón was left standing there, reduced to staring at his friend with incredulity.
"I mean, we don't know if he really got into a fight with Michel in the end or not," Pedro clarified, "but the girls said that he was very angry when he ran off, so I can't imagine that anything good came after that."
The two were in the locker room, behind the counter, faint music from the cafeteria's speakers serving as background noise to their conversation.
"Wow..." Simón's gaze wandered, picturing what the scene must've looked like in his head. "Let's hope nothing bad happened. Michel was wrong, obviously, but from there to hitting him, I mean..."
"Yeah... To be honest, I was surprised," Pedro said. "You're the one that's usually more protective over Luna and you said nothing, so Matteo running after Michel was a little... you know. I mean, I get that he's jealous, but he needs to chill."
It was like a hit to the chest. Simón looked down, fidgeting with the rag they used to wipe the skates. "... I didn't know."
Pedro blinked. "Didn't know what?"
"That Michel kissed Luna," he said quietly. "She didn't tell me."
Silence fell between the two.
"Oh..." Pedro shifted awkwardly. "Well, I found out through Delfi who found out from the girls, it's not like Luna told me and not you," he explained in a clear attempt to comfort him. "And this is probably a topic that's easier to talk about with other girls. You know, because they can, like, understand better the situation..."
Simón stopped him with a gesture for him to relax. "Yeah, no, I get it. It's fine."
And it was fine, he understood. But he couldn't blame Pedro for looking at him doubtfully because, well, if he was honest, it did hurt to find out about this through someone else and not Luna.
Maybe he was a hypocrite for feeling that way after what happened with Felipe Mendevilla's number, and that just made him feel worse. He and Luna used to tell each other everything. They were the first person the other sought out when something happened. When had that changed? When had that stopped being so?
Probably since we arrived in Buenos Aires.
If he dug into his memory, that was when their dynamic had started to shift. Luna kept denying she had feelings for Matteo even when it was obvious to everyone, then she tried to warn him about Daniela and he didn't listen...
Because I was trying to forget about Luna.
And maybe the reason she wasn't honest about Matteo was also because she was trying to spare his feelings.
Then, all of it had started because he got feelings for her? It was his fault?
The ringing of a phone pulled Simón out of his head.
"Ah, there it is!" Pedro said as he reached to answer the incoming video call lighting the screen of his cellphone.
They'd been waiting for this call. Nico had told them that morning that he had a surprise but that he'd only tell them at this hour, so the two had gathered at the lockers to see what the reason was behind all the mystery. Simón was rather curious.
"Heeey, guys!" Nico said excitedly the second he came on screen, and he exchanged greetings with his friends. "Guess where I am right now."
Simón focused on the background behind Nico and saw Pedro doing the same out of the corner of his eye. Since the distance of Nico's arm length didn't allow to see much, he could only make out what looked like a room wall bathed in bright blue light.
"A party?" Pedro ventured.
"Nope," Nico said with a smile. "I am... in the backstage of our very first music video!!"
Nico spun around, showing a crew with cameras and lights behind him, making the guys' jaws drop. The wall they'd seen before was indeed part of a large living room, where a camera stood in front of the couch— Ah, so the blue light was to simulate a television, he got it now. The other camera was pointing at a green screen on the other side of the room a little further back, two spotlights in front of it so they hit the screen correctly, and there was a kitchen next to the living room, visible through the open door, which was apparently going to be used for filming too since there was a light installed with a diffuser there.
"Ada had to record her first song for a class last week and she asked me to join, and we thought— 'Might as well make a video for it!'" Nico told them with cheer and excitement dripping from his voice. "So we joined hands with some guys from the Arts School that also needed to film something for a class, and here we are!" He looked at something behind the camera and turned back to them with a smile. "Ada says hello. She's still putting on her make-up."
"Oh my god, that's so exciting!" Simón said, filled to the brim with happiness for his friend.
He watched avidly with Pedro as Nico walked them through everything, explaining the concept of the video and a little of what the song was about, but he still refused to let them listen to it until the video was done so they could get the whole combo.
"And when will that be?" Pedro asked.
"Well, the guy who'll do the editing is also a student, so it'll depend a little on how busy he is, but it should be in two weeks; I'll let you know," he told them. "By the way, I saw you in Matteo's video!" Nico said excitedly. "It came out so cool. Send my congrats to Matteo and say hi to everyone for me."
"You have to go already?" Pedro said, a little disappointed.
"Yeah, we gotta start shooting." Nico looked at his wristwatch. "Actually, we're a little late," he realized, his face contorting into an 'oops' expression. "You know, they only lend us this equipment for a specific number of hours, then we need to return it. Okay, gotta run. Love you guys, take care!"
"You too," Simón said back.
"Call more often!" Pedro added.
"Okay, mom," Nico joked, and his face disappeared as he ended the call.
The guys turned to each other, twin overjoyed smiles on their faces.
"Well," Pedro remarked with a blown-away air, "that was a surprise for sure."
"I can't believe they already have their first song— That's so cool," Simón said with enthusiasm. "And the video— Did you see all the stuff they had? It's gonna be amazing, I can't wait to see it."
"Yeah, they make such a good duo, I bet that whatever they do from now on it's going to be nuts," Pedro said with confidence. "He better invite us when they go to the Grammys though or I'm gonna hunt him down, I'm telling ya."
Simón laughed, both for the incredibly high milestone his friend was already picturing (though not impossible, as long as Nico kept pursuing his dreams) and the idea of him catching a flight to New York just to call in best friend rights. Regardless of what the future might hold, the fact stood that Nico achieving this step towards his dreams so soon after his departure was already amazing. God, he was so happy for him...
...But...
Simón sighed, slumping a little. "What are we gonna do, Pedro?"
Pedro looked at him confusedly. "About what?"
"What do you mean 'about what'? The band, Pedro, the Roller Band," he clarified, charged with a worried sense of urgency. One part of him couldn't blame Pedro for not making the same connection as him instantly, the blatant contrast in realities that was begrudgingly disheartening, but another part of him urged that- No, they had to have the band always forefront on their minds, otherwise they'd never get anywhere. "We're down to two now. Nico is clearly moving forward, Matteo just got his music video, and we're like... lightyears away from doing something."
Pedro looked down, a melancholic air taking over his previous enthusiasm. Simón hated doing that to him, but they needed to have this conversation, whether they wanted to or not. "Yeah. I really liked the idea of having Matteo be the third member but..."
"...considering the reception his solo song has gotten, it's very unlikely he'll want that," Simón completed his thoughts. "And it's fine, he always wanted a solo career anyway. The question is, what do we do now?"
Pedro pondered somberly. "Either we get another member or we try as a duo," he stated their options, which, in all honesty, they already knew –since giving up on the band was out of the question— but it was different to know them as some abstract concept than to really face the choice. It was more real, more definitive. "We wouldn't be the first male duo," he offered with a quota of optimism, "look at Wisin & Yandel, or Mau & Ricky."
Simón made a face at his examples. "Okay, one, they're not even close to our music style, and two, the latter are a duo because they're brothers."
"So are we," Pedro said, half-joking. "Look, we're identical and everything."
That got a laugh out of Simón, even if a small one. Pedro smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Don't worry, dude, we'll figure it out," he told him, the complete faith in his voice working like a blanket of comfort with the weight of his hand. "Now I'll get back to work before your girlfriend fires me."
Simón chuckled as he watched his friend go. Once more, he was alone in the locker room, the faint music coming from the cafeteria filling the empty space. He let out a sigh.
To think that, at this time last year, he'd had the very real chance of getting a solo album, only to end up being an unpleasant experience, and before that, the assurances and praises of Vidia, telling them that the Roller Band would be huge as they placed cameras all around them.
So many hopes that had come to nothing.
Simón leaned with his elbows on the counter, holding his purple guitar pick between his hands, the symbol, almost, of all those hopes and all the dreams he'd ever had, until a customer entered the room and drew his thoughts elsewhere.
*******************
Jim had left with Yam some minutes ago to practice for their auditions, so Nina was left alone in the cafeteria. Well, 'alone' was an inaccurate term; there were people there, she just didn't know them. Delfi and Jazmín had been there just a minute ago, but Nina couldn't see them from her seat, so they were either somewhere else or they had left too. Considering how excited Jazmín had been at the 'Lutteo drama', she wouldn't be surprised if she was outside the Roller right now filming a video about it.
Nina was writing on her laptop— Or trying to, really. Words didn't come so easily to her lately. She had concepts, ideas she wanted to write about, but she didn't seem to be able to connect them into a smooth-flowing prose.
The sound of chatter made her look up from her screen as Pedro, Gastón and Ramiro turned the corner of the bar onto her field of vision. They seemed to be joking about something judging by the big grin on their faces, though maybe it just came from the happiness of being able to talk after all that time— Gastón because of his internship and Ramiro because of his estrangement with everyone due to the Red Sharks.
The latter said goodbye to the other two, and to Nina as well as he saw her on his way out. Nina waved back at him with a smile. They had never been close, but she was glad that he had fixed things with everyone. It brought back a feeling of normalcy, and he looked happier— Everyone did, actually. It was a relief that the feud between teams was a thing of the past... well, except for Benicio and Emilia, but Nina gathered there was nothing to be done about that except ignoring their glares.
Pedro apologized to Gastón but he had to keep waiting tables, which the boy totally understood and let him go with a friendly pat on the shoulder. As Pedro disappeared from view with the tray in his hands, Nina came to the heart-racing realization that Gastón had been left alone.
They were left alone.
And his gaze met hers.
Nina brought her eyes to her laptop, and then back at him, and then somewhere else, unsure if she should start conversation or just carry on with what she'd been doing while he did the same. Gastón answered her doubts as he neared her, and Nina tried not to look as nervous as she was.
"Hi," he said with a slight smile, sitting in front of her.
She didn't think she managed to smile but hoped she didn't look unwelcoming. "Hi."
"Have you heard anything from Luna yet?" He asked. "Matteo hasn't answered my texts."
"Oh, yeah, looks like nothing happened in the end," she replied, calmer now that they had a topic of conversation. "Except her dad reprimanded Matteo and made him talk with Michel to make up."
Gastón huffed with amusement. "I can't imagine Matteo liking that..."
"Yeah, me neither," Nina could easily agree. "But I think her dad is right; talking is the way to solve things. At least, that's how it should be."
"That's true," he said. "But there're also problems that can't be solved by talking," he lamented.
Nina looked down dejectedly. "Yeah, you're right." It wasn't like the two of them would stop liking Luna just because they talked about it.
Silence fell between them and she chanced a glance at Gastón. She found him looking at her, but the moment she met his eyes, he looked away. The silence continued. Nina couldn't take it. Here she was, preaching how people should talk about things and yet she had kept quiet about something.
"Gastón..." She started shyly. "If I didn't tell you about Eric, it's not because... I mean, I wasn't hiding it from you, it's just that, it didn't mean anything. It was a very awkward moment for the two of us, and I didn't want to mention it because it's already behind us and I thought it would only complicate things..."
She trailed off, not really sure of what else to say or how she could explain her thought process at the time correctly. It surely looked like she was lying. After all, why didn't she mention it if it really didn't mean anything? ...Maybe it did? She was starting to doubt herself.
To his credit, Gastón didn't seem to be judging her. His gaze wasn't accusing, nor skeptical, he just looked at her for a moment like processing her words and then nodded slowly to himself. "I understand."
Nina furrowed her brows, a little in disbelief. "You do?"
Gastón stayed quiet for a bit. His gaze lowered, and by the time his eyes returned to hers, there was a new vulnerability in them.
"To be honest, I wasn't going to ask," he admitted, tone subdued. "That's what I'd decided. Figured I don't have the right to." His gaze wavered again. "...Or maybe it'd be more honest to say I was scared of what you might say." A tiny smile, maybe sad, maybe embarrassed, curled his lips. Both, she concluded. "But thank you for telling me," he said, his voice soft. "Even if it did mean something... It's okay. It already happened, there's nothing I can do about it now."
It was sincere. The look in his eyes, the barely-there smile. And it did something to Nina's chest that she could still tell, still know, even though they'd been far apart for a while now.
"So... you're not going to run off to scream at Eric?" She joked.
Gastón laughed heartily, breaking the tension that had fallen upon them, and maybe, just maybe, the little corner in Nina's heart that had missed making him laugh. "Matteo is an idiot," he said smiling. "I love him but he is." He laid back on his seat, totally relaxed now. "Besides, what would I say to Eric? 'Why did you do it?' I know exactly why he did it, how could anyone not like you? I'd be more surprised if no one did."
Nina thought she might have stopped breathing there for a second, what with how hard her heart skipped. She prayed she wasn't blushing. She bowed her head all the same because, seriously, how could she not? How could he just say those things?! If he were any other kind of person, she'd think he did it on purpose to make her nervous. But no, that was just who he was. She'd always been amazed by how easily he could speak his mind in comparison to her.
"And I assume you already talked it out with him."
She was so beyond grateful he kept talking instead of leaving it at that.
"Yeah," she said, recomposing herself enough to look at him again. "It was all a misunderstanding really, he thought... things. And I probably made him think things without meaning to... But anyway— We talked, we understood, it's fine," she said rapidly. "It- it hasn't happened again, nor will it, because we're friends. I mean, even after that we're still friends— I consider him my friend, at least— We get along very well, but we don't..."
"Nina, it's okay, I got it," he stopped her, chuckling to himself.
She looked at him confused. "What? Why are you laughing?" Sure, she'd been rambling, but was it that funny?
He shook his head slightly. "Nothing, it's just... It gives me a little bit of hope. To see you so worried about what I might think."
And right back to nervous she was.
"I mean— I'm only telling you the truth because one should always speak with the truth," she said fast, "I'm in no way ready to give you a response, I mean, it's been- what? 24 hours? Less than? I haven't even gotten the time to think about it yet, much less reach a conclusion, there are a million factors I haven't even considered yet, I haven't made a list, or several, I don't know what—"
"Nina, breathe," Gastón said amusedly. "I told you you had time to think about it, I'm not gonna take it away now," he assured her.
Nina calmed down, or as much as she could with the current topic of conversation. Gastón's smile weakened as he looked at her, taking on a sad tint. "Of course I would love it if you told me yes right now and we could spend the time I have here together but... I understand that it's hard."
He rose from his seat. "Take all the time you need... And, if one of those million factors you need to think of is Eric then... take the time to consider that too," he said solemnly. "I would feel bad if you regretted things later because of me."
He walked away, leaving Nina even more bundled up inside than the day before. She didn't think it was possible, but with all of this...
Before she could even begin to make heads of anything, Gastón returned.
"I take it back, think only of me."
Nina looked up, finding his pleading, vulnerable eyes.
"Just for these few days; that's all I'll ask of you."
Her chest hurt and her tongue forgot how to function. He left again before she could say anything, but even if he'd stayed, she doubted she could have.
She couldn't get the look on his face out of her head. The intensity of his gaze. All the different smiles he'd shown her in the last few minutes, and all the words she hadn't expected to hear.
'Think only of me.'
Nina slumped forward on her seat, staring blankly at her half-made article, knowing with certainty now that she wouldn't be able to add anything to it today.
... If only he knew how hard it is not to.
*******************
There was just something different about how music sounded in a space of complete silence.
Even when it was soft, like now as he touched the strings with nothing more than his fingertips, it created an atmosphere that surrounded his body, made him feel strangely but captivatingly disconnected from the world.
Sé que alguna vez... Me verán brillar...
Oh oh, oh oh
Se sorprenderán...
Usually at this hour, Simón would be hanging out with Ámbar until they were called down for dinner, but she'd left the Roller before him today because she was meeting Ana at the mansion. Nina's mom had arranged to meet Luna's parents for legal advice, and so had told Ámbar that she could meet her afterward, make use of the trip, to help her with some Jam & Roller paperwork. Thus, Simón had made his way back from work with Pedro instead of her, and found she was still busy when he returned.
So here he was now, sitting alone in the storage room, with his feet on the coffee table and his guitar in his hands, playing a song he'd sung a hundred times, but he didn't think he'd ever felt the lyrics quite like this. "Alzo mi bandera" was an optimistic song, full of enthusiasm and excitement for the bright future that would come someday. They always sang it with confidence and big smiles. Bright eyes and hearts full of anticipation.
This time was not like that. This time he was in almost darkness, singing to himself and fingerpicking the chords in a melancholic way. A song meant to be fast flowed slowly. Lyrics meant to be confident sounded like angsty self-reassurance.
Sé que alguna vez... Hablarán de mí...
Oh oh, oh oh
Sé que será así...
Simón was quite aware that the things that afflicted him lately weren't so bad, and would be easily labeled by others as champagne problems. 'Boohoo, you live in a mansion with your girlfriend without having to pay a cent; your life is so hard.'
It wasn't that he wasn't grateful for the good things in his life— He was, truly. It was just that lately they seemed to be few, and the more he thought about it, the more he looked at the room he was currently in, the more he realized he was almost in the same position as he'd been when he'd just arrived in Buenos Aires. Back when he lived in this crammed storage room in secret because he had nowhere else to stay. Back when he depended completely on Luna's generosity and his own optimism.
'You don't have a house nor a band nor a trainer for your team...'
No, he didn't. But he wasn't like back then either. He had his friends. He had Ámbar. Yes, he was facing a lot of setbacks, but he still had his dream, and he still believed he could achieve it.
It was just that the novelty of the new experiences that had pushed him forward that first year on his own had faded with time. Reality had sunk in. This wasn't him living an adventure anymore— This was him living his life.
The song came to an end and he remained there, thinking for some time while silence reigned over the room. He re-adjusted the guitar in his arms and played with a couple chords, nothing premeditated, just random movements for the sake of making music. One of them reminded him of a song, and a smile tugged at his lips. His fingers began to play it with no effort at all. Once more, he started to sing.
Te vas amor...
Si así lo quieres qué le voy a hacer...
Tu vanidad no te deja entender...
Que en la pobreza se sabe querer...
Playing this song made him feel better, and also sadder, if that made any sense.
It just brought back so many memories... Little things that weren't so special back then, but now they were.
He got so lost reminiscing that he finished the song before he realized it. He considered playing it again. Or twenty times.
Suddenly, the sound of hands applauding snapped him to attention. He turned to it and found Ámbar by the door, looking at him with a fond smile.
"There you are," she said. "I had a feeling you'd be here."
He showed her a smile. "I felt like playing for a little while," he explained, leaving the guitar against the armrest of the couch. "Didn't want to bother the rest."
"Mmm..."
She walked towards him, and he noticed something on her face, but he couldn't quite pinpoint it.
"Okay," she said, sounding like she'd reached some kind of decision. She sat next to him on the other end of the couch and patted her lap with her hands. "Lay down."
Simón blinked. "What?"
Her easy smile didn't falter. "Rest your head on my lap, come on."
A little puzzled but seeing no reason not to, Simón followed her instructions, laying down on his back and adjusting himself until the back of his head was on her legs. He looked up at her, taking in curiously this angle. He didn't think he'd ever seen someone like this; it was new.
"Like this or on my side?" He asked.
"Like this is perfect," Ámbar replied, both her voice and expression sweetly gentle. She brought a hand to his hair and began stroking it softly, making his eyes flutter shut. It felt really nice. "Now, tell me," she said, beckoning his gaze. "What's wrong? You've been off lately."
Simón tensed up. He knew this was unusual but hadn't expected that to be the reason. He opened his mouth to deny it— I'm fine, nothing important, don't worry about it— but the look on her face stopped him short.
Simón sighed, deflating a little bit. "Is it that obvious?" He asked with a resigned smile.
"A little," she said. "I mean, the heartfelt guitar ballad just now gave me a hint."
He chuckled lightly.
"I just..." He looked down and breathed deeply. "I've been a little nostalgic, that's all."
"You miss Cancún?"
"Yeah. The song, the one I was singing just now, reminds me a lot of Mexico. I used to play it all the time— In fact, my mom was so sick of hearing it that every time I started she went like 'Simón, not again."
They laughed.
"I miss... I miss everything to be honest," he said in a quiet voice. "I miss my city. I miss the sea. I mean, there's sea here too but it's not the same as living right next to it. I miss just, taking a walk down the beach... not thinking about anything, just... breathing."
"The sea is very beautiful there," she agreed. There was something comforting in knowing that she knew what he was talking about without needing to imagine it and it made him smile.
"It is." His gaze wandered, his smile fading as he got lost in his thoughts. "I miss... I mean, I miss the little things, you know? I miss hearing Mexican slangs on the streets. I miss the food. I miss not being cold in winter— because here the cold is unbelievable. I'm used to it now, but that first year? Oof. Luna and I froze to death." Ámbar laughed, probably remembering how they suffered by some mere 17°C. Being used to tropical weather was no joke. "I miss the local TV channels with the programs I've watched a thousand times. I miss taking Paco out for a walk— God, I miss my dog..."
Ámbar gave him a sad smile as she continued running her fingers through his hair.
Simón grimaced guiltily. "I'm sorry, I'm depressing you, aren't I?"
"No no, not at all, keep going," she told him immediately, that same gentle smile still on her face. "I'm listening. What else do you miss?"
'I'm listening'. They were such simple words, and yet...
Why do I feel like I've been waiting to hear that for a long time?
"Well..." He thought of something he could say that was a little cheerier.
He told her about the festivities, and especially Día de los Muertos because it was something they only had in Mexico and he missed it every year. He'd see his family and friends posting their costumes on social media, and although he enjoyed the Halloween parties with his friends here, he missed seeing the catrinas on the streets and the pompous parades. The energy you could feel during that time of the year was inexplicable. It truly felt like all those you'd lost walked through the streets and celebrated with you.
"We make our own costumes and... well, it's pretty, you know? It's a nice excuse to... spend time with family," he finished weakly, suddenly drained of the cheer of the memories.
Ámbar's eyes looked at him with sadness. "You miss them, don't you?"
"So much," he admitted dejectedly. "Especially when I first got here, I used to wake up and I could swear that my mom was gonna call me to the table to have breakfast. But no, obviously. All I had were Nico's scrambled eggs— Good, but not the same. I miss my siblings. With time, you even start missing what you didn't like about them. Like, I miss fighting for the bathroom," he said, truly amazed by it, and it made her chuckle. "I miss fighting over which movie to watch— God, my little brother— I swear I've seen the Lego movie 30 times, I swear." Ámbar laughed harder. "I could quote it by memory. And it's not even that good!"
"Thank god I never had those problems," she said, amused. "That's the real reason you left Cancún, right? Couldn't take it anymore?"
"Absolutely," he deadpanned.
They chuckled.
Simón sighed. "I miss everyone. I miss my grandma, she is so great. She's got a story for everything. Everything. It's amazing to chat with her. I miss fixing the car with my dad... Some of my friends I've had since I can remember, and then, bam, one day to another, you don't see them anymore. I mean, of course we talk, we try to stay in contact but... I have new friends, they have new friends. Either from College or work. And we just... don't have that much to talk about anymore. Their stories don't include me, mine don't include them. Sometimes you have to give them like ten minutes of background tales for them to understand why something's funny and it just... isn't worth it."
She looked at him with sympathy. "Mmm I get that. Sometimes life just does that. Takes people on different paths."
"Yeah... I mean, when we hang out on the holidays, we have a great time and all. It's nice to get to spend some days with my family, visit my grandma, breathe in my Mexico... But the rest of the year... it's tough, sometimes. Not like I'm miserable, I have a great time here," he hurried to assure her. "I have you, I have the guys... Buenos Aires it's like a second home to me by now. But..." He lowered his gaze. "I don't know. I guess there are moments when I just... feel lonely." He felt the words sink in the space between them like a pebble on a pond. He had never said it out loud. His eyes moved back to hers, uncertain, searching for her thoughts. "Is that weird?"
She shook her head. "Now that you tell me, it makes perfect sense," she said, her fingers threading through his fringe like a bigger reassurance, a tactile way of saying he wasn't wrong, that she understood. "But if someone had asked me... I mean, you never look lonely..."
Simón looked at her eyes, flickering with worry and confusion, and showed her a sad smile. "Neither did you when I first met you," he remembered. "I guess we're both just good at hiding it."
Looking back, maybe that was it. What brought them together back then. What made a connection so easy between the two when neither expected it. Two people that craved more than they showed. Two people that needed more reassurance than they admitted.
He could see the same recognition pass through her eyes. Ámbar left his hair, and instead held one of his hands in both her own. "Don't do that with me," she asked of him, her voice low but eyes earnest and pleading. "I want to be able to help you. Be there for you. I may not always know how, but I want to cheer you up when you're feeling down..."
Simón breathed through the swelling of his heart and the emotion that threatened to tighten his throat. He grabbed one of her hands and brought it to his mouth. He closed his eyes as he kissed its back, ran his thumb over her skin when he opened them. He looked at her and smiled. "You already do."
Simón sat up and held her hands in his. Intertwined their fingers. "This, listening to me, supporting me... You have no idea how much it means to me."
They looked at each other, and he hoped she could see it in his gaze. It seemed like she did, for her expression softened, but her worry didn't totally go away. "Although..." He added then. "I guess if you really want to help me, you could answer one little question."
"What?"
He looked her in the eyes.
"Do you love me?"
Ámbar stared at him, and for a second it looked like she was going to snort. It was her 'you're a dork but I adore you' look. But she bit down her amusement and the obvious remarks, and answered seriously, sincerely, squeezing his hands in hers.
"With all my heart."
Simón smiled and returned the squeeze. "Then I need nothing else."
The smile she gifted him in return, and the look in her eyes, couldn't be filled with anything else but love.
He leaned down to capture that smile with his lips. "Now, come on. Dinner must be about ready." He got up, pulling on her hand, and she followed naturally. "And I'm sure nothing sparks your appetite more than a loong depressing talk from your boyfriend."
"Oh come on, don't be like that, it was nice," she defended. "I like listening to you talk about your family and Mexico. Maybe you could tell me stories more often." She squeezed his hand as they moved to the exit. "I do have to learn 18 years of your life after all."
He chuckled at her plan. "I don't remember like the first seven of those."
"That's okay; I'll ask your mom about them."
He scrunched up his face. "Please don't."
They laughed and Simón opened the door for her. He left his guitar and cloudy thoughts behind him, in the storage room, and walked out with his love, hand in hand.
---------------------
Later that night, as they were both settling under the covers to sleep, he couldn't stop staring at her.
Ámbar left her phone charging on the nightstand and was going to turn off the lamp when she noticed him smiling with his cheek on the pillow.
It must've been contagious because she smiled too. "What?"
"I'm just happy," he said, feeling like his chest was going to burst from so much joy. "I'm happy you're with me. That we can talk about anything with the other, spend the day together and then go to bed together..." He reached for her hand and held it in his. "I'm so glad we could have this new beginning. With no more secrets or distance between us."
Ámbar's smile seemed to freeze, and the sparkle in her eyes went out like a spent match. Her happiness had wilted in a matter of seconds.
She looked down at their joined hands. "Mm..."
Simón's smile faded as well. He sat up. "What is it?"
She shook her head weakly. "Nothing, it's just..."
The silence stretched and she still didn't look at him.
"You..." Simón furrowed his eyebrows. He didn't think it was the case but... "There's something you're not telling me?"
"No," she denied at once, only to backtrack one second later, "I mean..." Her eyes, which had finally looked at him, looked away again. They kept moving as she talked. "Yes. But I'm not hiding it from you specifically. It's just... there are some things I can't tell."
Simón frowned. This was not something he expected to hear.
Confusion and worry battled in his chest. "Why can't you?"
Ámbar looked at their joined hands again and squeezed. "It's... hard."
It seemed like every word had to fight a war to leave her throat. She looked him in the eyes and the struggle and suffering were visible in them.
She brought a hand to his face and kissed him. "I promise I'll tell you someday, okay?" She told him, lowering her hand. "But in the meantime, please don't ask."
Simón looked at her. This was the same person that had spent a good amount of time just listening to him. The same that had comforted him with the most loving gaze he had ever seen directed at him. The one who was with him every day and made him happy. This was Ámbar.
"...Okay, I understand," he said. She had accepted his words; he could respect her silence. "Just," he moved to face her more fully, "I hope you know that I am here for you." He looked into her eyes and caressed her cheek with his free hand. "For anything, okay? If you can't talk, then we don't talk, but I'm here to help you in any way that I can."
Ámbar smiled with sad eyes and wrapped her arms around him.
Simón held her. He knew Ámbar's childhood had been rougher than his own. She'd never straight out said it, sometimes he wondered if she fully realized it, but he'd gathered it from the bits and pieces she'd shared with him over time. If there were topics that were hard for her to address, he totally understood that. She said she'd tell him when she was ready so, he could wait. It was the least he could do after all the patience she'd treated him with.
But even as Ámbar rested her head on his shoulder and snuggled up against him, he couldn't stop one thought from popping into his mind.
What could be so bad that she couldn't tell him?
...
..
.
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Oh, Ámbar... You shouldn't have done that.